


Down in Louisiana

by amosanguis



Series: crossovers and fusions ftw [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), True Blood
Genre: AU episode, BAMF Derek Hale, BAMF Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s05e08 Somebody That I Used to Know, Gen, M/M, almost a road trip fic, just general bamf-ness all around for the Hale pack, kidnapped!stiles, so AU just pretend that everyone except Alcide is going about their normal business, title from a song, werewolf!Lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the human that JD kidnaps to be hunted for Alcide's challenge for Pack Master.  Derek and the others are not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down in Louisiana

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Cotton Fields” by CCR.
> 
> Also, please note that True Blood werewolves are portrayed as weaker than Teen Wolf werewolves. For reasons. I mostly just wanted the Hale pack fucking everyone's shit up. So this happened.

-z-

 

If this experience taught him anything – it was that Stiles was really good at pretending to be terrified when he was actually almost dying from trying to restrain his laughter.

Because these werewolves?

Even Scott would be embarrassed on their behalf.  Derek and Peter would kill them to put them out of their misery ( _now there’s a thought_ , Stiles laughed to himself); Erica, Boyd, and Isaac probably wouldn’t care (as long as it didn’t interrupt puppy pile time); and Lydia and Jackson wouldn’t even deign to acknowledge them.

But, as things are – all of the aforementioned werewolves (with the exception of Peter who stayed in Beacon Hills) had better be in the killing mood when they finally came to rescue him.  And if Stiles knew his pack (he did) they would in fact be in a killing mood and much more besides.  Actually, if he had to listen to this old man ramble on any longer, he might not have the patience to wait for his betas to get here.

“Tonight, we’re gonna harken back to our forebearers.  Time to bring tradition and integrity back to this pack,” Stiles was shoved unceremoniously to the front of the crowd and into the arms of the ‘wolf that had been called JD.  “We are going to hunt as Men, not Wolves, but we will give him a very sportsman-like two minute head start,” the man holding Stiles laughs.

And then the man Stiles remembers being introduced as Alcide straightened up and shouted over the other ‘wolves: “So, what – you’re gonna kill an innocent kid just to prove you can run faster than him while you’re on V?”

 _Fuck_ , Stiles curses inwardly – that’s just what he needed, to be locked up in a barn with a bunch of fucking V-addicts.

“I ain’t gonna stand around and watch this happen,” and Alcide, bless him, tries to forfeit the fight to save Stiles’ life.

JD just pushes Stiles away and Stiles stumbles and barely rights himself – and then he’s looking at the people around and suddenly he whirls back to JD.  And then he starts laughing (because Stiles has never been known for his ability to keep himself in check, even when his life dependeds on it).

“What the fuck is so funny, human?” JD snarls as he jumps off his bale of hay – but it’s a human snarl and Stiles has faced ‘wolves saying that exact same thing but with fangs and glowing eyes, so he’s not really all that intimidated.

“You!” Stiles waves at JD, then to all the rest of the ‘wolves.  “You’re pathetic excuses for werewolves and because I’m such a great person – I’m going to give you all some advice.”

Then he’s stepping in closer, into JD’s space, letting the werewolf smell his distinct lack of fear.

“Don’t follow me out into the night,” he says, “for _my_ ‘wolves are bigger, badder, and _far_ more fucking terrifying.  And when my husband shifts,” Stiles voice steadily grew louder as he continued, “you won’t even be able to tell he’s there until his _fangs are ripping out_ _your **goddamned** **throat**_!”

Stiles took a step back, trying to control his breathing – trying to reign in his temper as he angrily ran a hand through his hair (how fucking dare these people to just kidnap him while he was taking a nice calming walk through the woods?  All he wanted to do was continue this family fun time road trip – but _nooo_ , fucking supernatural creatures just loved to kidnap him and torture him and make him run, make him scream, make him beg.  Well, these assholes were about to learn not to underestimate a Stilinski). 

As if to reiterate his earlier threat, a chorus of deep, guttural howls reverberated around the barn – shaking the building’s walls and causing a few of the younger ‘wolves to yelp and start shaking.  Stiles sneered at them.

“That wasn’t a regular werewolf,” one of the younger males said – his fear obvious.

“I don’t believe any of this bullshit,” JD growled as he grabbed Stiles by the neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Alcide’s words came slow and when JD looked over he saw that Alcide was staring up at the barn’s rafters.  JD jerked his head to follow Alcide’s gaze – he was met by six sets of glowing gold eyes.  Stiles smirked as JD’s hand fell from his neck.

“You’re lucky that my pups are the ones who found me,” he said as he stepped back and looked up.  “And how are we this lovely evening?” he asked them.

Snaps and snarls were his answer as Scott and Isaac dropped smoothly to the floor – fully shifted into their beta forms, their fangs gleaming and their claws fully extended and ready at their sides.

It took only a few seconds for two of the braver ‘wolves to attack – but Scott easily batted away one as Isaac evaded-then-eviscerated the other. 

“You think your puppy ‘wolves will scare me?” JD asked as he took off first his jacket, then his shirt.  “I’ll show you how real werewolves fight!”

And then he shifted.

“You turn into an actual wolf?” Stiles gaped, feigning fear.  And then he rolled his eyes and turned just so he could address the pack at large.  “Well, since you’ve shown us yours – Derek, let’s show them ours.”

And none of the ‘wolves had a chance to even blink before a massive blackness slammed through the wall of the barn and took their leader into its jaws.

Derek picked JD up by the underside of his neck and shook him back and forth – his fangs ripping and tearing through flesh and fur before he threw JD up into the air, his claws then cleanly slicing open the older wolf’s chest – exposing muscle and bone.  Derek tossed the now human body into the middle of its pack and stood up and roared for the next challenger.

And that’s when the Louisiana ‘wolves began to scream.

 

-x-

 

“That was fun,” Stiles said as he slung an arm around Scott and another around Isaac, “wasn’t that fun?”

The pack was entering a bar and grill as Derek shook his head and said, “I think I still have fur in my teeth.”

“Maybe Stiles can help you suck them out later,” Lydia said – it was followed by a chorus of _ew_ and _gross_.

“Hush, children, we’re in public,” Stiles quickly shushed everyone at the looks the man behind the bar was giving them.  He offered a quiet wave before ushering the pack to push two tables together and then settling in.

“Derek,” Boyd leaned in close to his alpha once everyone’s orders had been placed.  “The bartender smells weird.”

Derek stared at Boyd before bringing him in for a rare hug (Stiles was usually the one who doled out any physical contact outside of puppy piles).  Then he turned to everyone else at the table.

“This is why Boyd’s my favorite,” Derek said.  “He’s the only one who ever pays attention during training.”

“So what is he?” Boyd persisted before either Scott or Erica could loudly exclaim how hurt they were (Isaac didn’t have to because it was well known that he was Stiles’ favorite).

“A shifter,” Derek answered; then he turned to the rest of the pups and continued.  “And extra dessert for anyone who can guess what our waitress is.”

“That’s not fair,” Stiles immediately objected, “I don’t have any supernatural senses!”

“You get extra dessert anyway,” Derek smirked as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Stiles’ cheek.  “Near death experience and all.”

“Those ‘wolves were weak,” Stiles sighed with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “And I’m pretty sure they were all hopped up on V, anyway – which just makes them pathetic.”

“Weak and pathetic or not, they still could have killed you.”

“I knew you guys would come for me,” Stiles said, staring right at Derek.  “Never doubted it for a second.”

“That’s adorable,” Jackson snorted – but the comment was without its usual bite.

And before anyone else could say anything, the waitress showed up with everyone’s food.  She slowly handed out the plates, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concentration as she watched the ‘wolves begin to eat.  Only Stiles noticed.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No.  No, everything’s fine,” she stuttered, her eyes flicking between Stiles and Derek.  “Just, enjoy your meal, sir.”

Once she was gone, Derek leaned.

“She’s fae,” he said.  “A group of woodland fae used to live on the edges of the Hale property – they moved away after the fire, though.  Too much death – and death caused by such hate, poisons the land.  It’ll be a few more years before they try to come back.”

“No shit?” Stiles raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder to watch the retreating waitress – he ended up locking eyes with the bartender.  “Derek – the shifter looks really fucking mad.”

Derek looked up at Stiles then up to the bartender.

“That’s because he can hear us,” he said, “and if he hears us – then he knows we’re not a threat to his faerie and that once we’re done eating, we’ll be gone from his town.”

Stiles looked over his shoulder again and watched as the shifter’s nostrils flared in anger before he nodded once and turned to get a beer for a new customer.

 

-x-

 

“Okay, according to my little doo-hickey here,” Stiles began as he looked down at his GPS, “the only real college here in Shreveport is Louisiana State – aaand, judging by everyone’s growling, I’m just going to assume no one wants to go to college in Shreveport?”

“I don’t think anyone wants to go to college in _Louisiana_ ,” Lydia said with a toss of her hair.  “It’s too sticky out here.”

“Can we just go back to California?” Isaac begged from his spot on the floor of the old Volkswagen van.

“I said that we’re going to go cross-country for our college tour, so that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Stiles said as he entered in a new route for Mississippi (Jackson was excited because he shared a name with Mississippi’s capital).

“Whatever, let’s just go,” Erica sighed as she fanned herself and began to whine for Derek to turn on the AC.

Derek let her stew miserably for a few seconds before he turned on the air.

“I don’t know why I ever let you talk me driving this thing,” he said, glancing over at Stiles briefly before turning back to the road.

“Because it’s awesome,” Stiles cooed as he pat the dash lovingly – the old bright yellow Volkswagen van had been confiscated by his father from a woman who had been smoking in it at a nearby park.  The Sheriff normally would’ve just let her off (he’d had more pressing matters to attend to due to the stupidly high amount of supernatural activity in his town), but he knew about Stiles’ impending trip and decided to trade the woman the van in lieu of jail time.  The woman had hastily agreed and handed the Sheriff the keys right then and there.

“It has a smile right between the headlights, Stiles,” Derek growled.

“Because it’s a happy bus,” Stiles grinned brightly.  “Also – look at all the room!”

Stiles motioned behind him – where the only seats were along one wall of the bus, the floor of it covered with deep purple shag carpet, pillows, and blankets; there were numerous coolers filled with snacks and drinks (and beer for Derek when he wasn’t driving).  The windows had even been outfitted with blue tie-dye curtains that had long ago faded from the sun.

Derek just rolled his eyes.

And then he almost crashed as a tall blond man suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.

“Fucking vampires!” Stiles cursed as he looked behind him to check on the others.

The vampire was suddenly at Derek’s window, knocking gently.  Derek rolled it down – lifting both eyebrows up.

“First things first,” the vampire said, voice deceptively calm, “I love the van.”

Stiles took a second to be proud of himself.

“Second, did you or did you not attack and massacre a werewolf pack earlier this afternoon?”

“Attacked, yes,” Derek responded, keeping his voice calm.  “Massacred, no.  I killed their alpha because he attacked my husband,” Derek jerked his head at Stiles, “I let everyone else go.”

“I’m looking for one ‘wolf in particular,” the blond vampire held up a photo of one of the one men Stiles recognized, “this one.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t hurt,” Stiles said as he leaned over Derek to get a better look at the photo.  “One of my betas nicked him, but I was able to get between them before it got serious.  Alcide stood up for me, tried to get JD to see what he was doing was foolish.  But JD was high on V, so it didn’t do much good.  Alcide was still there when we left – trying to calm down the rest of the pack and assure them that it wouldn’t be wise to go up against us.”

“I see,” the vampire said as he tucked the photo away.  “Thank you for your time.”

And just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

“Can we please get the fuck out of this state?” Scott whimpered from right behind Stiles.  “We’ve never run into fae, vampires, shifters, and fake werewolves all in one night before.”

“For once, Scott, I agree with you,” Derek muttered as he put his foot on the gas pedal.

 

-z-

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> The yellow VW bus described here is one my mom used to own.


End file.
